Sweet and Salty
by Lovelihead
Summary: Takes a look at the parallels of Tony and Ziva's relationship and how they deal with issues after they've broken down the walls of their defense with their furthered intimacy. Loosely inspired by Blue Octobers' 'Everlasting Friend'. Tiva.
1. Sweet

**I know I haven't written anything in like, a million years, and for that I apologise. But I've most definitely still been lurking, and I _still_ have about 50 unfinished tiva stories hidden _everywhere_ on my computer, and that's not even an exaggeration. **

**Okay, well. This my friends, is little something I cooked up whilst listening to Blue Octobers' song 'Everlasting Friend' it's a piece of art, really. Initially, this was supposed to be a one shot that would have two parts (hence the title... 'Sweet and Salty') I guess you'll kind of get it when I post the second piece. But, in a way it was kind of going to be regarding the parallels of their relationship and the different ways they deal with different serious situations after they have gotten to know each other more intimately and no longer hide behind their defenses and walls. But really, don't look that far in to it because that's kind of me looking at it as an outsider, as a reader. If you want to look at it through _my _eyes, just think of it as a random piece of writing that got splattered on to the page by my brain one lazy weekend when I had nothing to do and I just so happened to be listening to that particular song. Because that's what happened.**

**Okay, I'm going to dedicate this to Kali (CemeteriesofLondon) just because I have this thing against breaking tradition, and I love her.**

**Disclaimer: I don't want to go to jail.  
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_February 14__th__, 2011_

Casual sex, that's all it had been. That was all we had agreed upon, and to be honest that was good enough for me. I can barely remember how it had all begun, it had been so long ago; just a jibe one of us had thrown at the other had escalated a little too far and we had ended up at my apartment, wearing no clothes. And then I couldn't believe my luck.

She sat at the dining table in her robe, which she'd thrown on after our previous session in the bedroom. Chewing on the tip of a pen, her brows knitted in thought as she worked on a crossword in the newspaper. I, for one, had been surprised she got half of the references.

"Darling," I smirked as she tensed at the unexpected nickname I threw at her, "Betty and I would like some company in the kitchen."

When she threw me a confused look, my grin broadened as I imagined the thoughts whirring through that pretty little head of hers. She was so beautiful then, the final rays of day shone through the window behind her, igniting her skin in a beautiful glow.

I held up the box of _Betty Crocker's_ cupcakes and realisation dawned on her face as she smiled warmly at me, climbing delicately to her feet and stepping toward me where she snatched the box from my hands as she raced past. Not to be one to lose a race, I ran to catch up to her and caught her around the waist, lifting her off the floor with her back to my chest. She laughed as I spun around and placed her feet back to the linoleum.

"Ziva," I smiled as I said her name, for no other reason than to simply taste it on my tongue.

She turned around to face me.

"Tony," she replied with a sparkle in her eye that told me she was happier than she'd been in a long time.

I had to lean in then, be as close to her as possible in a time like this, and I knew she thought the same as her upper body bowed toward mine. I made the first move, but I knew I wouldn't have been waiting long if I hadn't. Her lips tasted of vanilla, so my tongue subconsciously slipped between my lips to taste hers and she parted them barely, allowing me entrance. But I kept it innocent and pulled away, to rest my forehead against hers. Then she leant forward and sought out my lips once again, placing a light peck to them before falling toward me and smiling against my cheek.

She spoke hushed words against my skin, "This must be awkward for Betty.

I chuckled at that and kissed her on the cheek, and then I pulled away from her and turned toward the oven; preheating.

I mixed as she poured in the ingredients, we really did make a good team.

I was kind of nervous about whether this new addition to our relationship could ruin the partnership we'd been steadily building these past five years. But then I thought, really it's not that big of an addition. It _was_ just sex, really.

"Are we done?" she questioned after the tray had been placed in the oven and I looked at her with something bordering astonishment.

"Ziva David, what normal human being does not remember _icing_?" I asked, my tone almost hysterical despite the underlying joke, "Are you sure you passed your citizenship test?" I tacked on the end with a smile.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face and patted me on the cheek, spinning on her heel and digging through the pantry while humming and unfamiliar tune. She held a box of food colouring between her deft fingers, and the confectioners' sugar was tucked snugly under her arm. The food colouring was a mixture of pinks and reds; for the sake of the holiday, I supposed.

She continued humming as she mixed everything together, and this time, I merely watched. Watched her flick her hair behind her ears and throw everything in the bowl without the use of a measuring cup. She was astounding.

We'd never spoken about where this was going. We'd just gone with it, went with the moment and never had any regrets. But the longer it went on, the more I realised I was forming more of an attraction to her personality over her body. That's where it had begun; we were both just seeking the liberation, the physical release. But now I realise it's much more than that, for me. And that _scared_ me.

"What are you doing?" She was watching me, her lip quirked upward in mild curiosity. That was when I realised I'd been staring.

"Supervising," I stated gruffly before stepping toward her as she turned back around to face the several bowls of pink and red before her.

She lifted the wooden mixing spoon to her lips and sucked the icing from it. She placed it on the counter and spun around in my arms, which I had woven around her waist.

There was a drop of pink icing clinging to her bottom lip so without thinking I dipped my head and sucked at it, tasting the sweetness on my tongue. It was wonderful. And this time I didn't hold back when she parted her lips, my tongue met hers, I was eager for more of that sweetness.

She pulled away this time, her breathing slightly laboured as her eyes fluttered open. "Tony, I..." she began.

And then the oven alarm went off and she ran to get the cupcakes from the oven before they burned.

"We can't ice them until they have cooled, let's go clean ourselves up, yes?" she offered and I nodded wordlessly.

She went to the bathroom as I put the cupcakes on the cooling rack. When I entered the bathroom I expected her to already be in the shower, but then I realised she was standing beside the bathtub, her robe falling off her shoulders to reveal her bare back.

The faucet poured water and bubbles foamed up. I grinned, a bubble bath with Ziva, the best Valentine's Day.

I stripped down to nothing and came up behind her, kneading her shoulders intimately. And even though she stood before me wearing nothing but the cheeky smile she threw over her shoulder, I wanted nothing but to hold her close.

So I guided her toward to tub and we stepped in and she lay down on my chest, her head resting on my shoulder as we were engulfed by the warm water. She leaned over to turn off the faucet before resting back against me with a content sigh.

The hand I had resting on her abdomen slid down into the water and I scooped out a handful of bubbles, which I brought up to effectively give her a bubble beard. She let out a puff of air and watched some bubbles spiral up toward the ceiling. She laughed low in her throat before turning her head to kiss the corner of my mouth, wiping the bubbles on my cheek.

I smiled as her lips slid lightly over my cheek before she nuzzled into my neck.

"Hey Ziva," I mumbled and she hummed a reply, "Happy Valentine's Day."

I felt her eyelashes flutter against my skin and her lips turn upward into a smile.

And I don't know what compelled her to say what she said next, probably the total lack of fear she portrayed in every situation, but it was purely amazing and utterly terrifying all at once.

"I love you."

I literally felt my heart skip a beat, and my body tense. And that was it; the partnership we'd been steadily building these past five years _had _been completely destroyed in favour of something so much stronger; so much better.

And she seemed so nonchalant, I just couldn't ruin the moment by talking about the seriousness of this situation. I just brought my lips to her ear and murmured the words I'd held back for so long, "I love you too, Ziva David."

Thus the relationship began.

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**There we go, a little bit of sweetness to brighten our days. **

**Alright, well I still don't exactly know what I'm doing with this yet so yeah. I've already got the majority of the second part of this written, it's just a matter of really hunkering down, and doing it. But I was hoping that posting this piece would do just that. So, hopefully! The second part of this was kind of going to be the reverse of this, a little on the - I wouldn't say 'angsty'- but maybe... sad..? side. And that was supposed to be the finale of this little story, but I can't bear to leave a story on a not happy ending, so it would probably be open ended until I found a way to end it. So, well then. **

**Review? :)  
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	2. Salty

**Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry. I don't mean to procrastinate so much, my muse is just extremely temperamental and real life can be quite misunderstanding. **

**Well I have to say, it feels good to be publishing something _finally_. I have so many unfinished fan fictions meandering _everywhere_ on my computer and I'm not even kidding. I'm here, always, lurking. Always reading, always writing but never completing. Sigh. **

**Well back to the fic. This one tackles a different viewpoint, more of a... sad, angsty one perhaps? I'm not entirely sure if it's too OOC, or not. It probably is. I wrote most of it on a tired-high so who knows what I'm going to think of this tomorrow.**

**Warnings:**** I have bumped the rating up to M because there's a _fairly _graphic sex scene close to the end. This fic was supposed to be strictly T rated but, as I said, temperamental muse. She does what she likes and there's nothing I can do. **

**Anyway, I won't take up too much of your time, enjoy**

**Disclaimed. **

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We had fallen into our newfound relationship easily enough. I was surprised, really. I thought it would be much more difficult than it had been.

Our furthered intimacy had lessened the arguments and head-butting at work, resulting in less head slaps and threats of unemployment. I couldn't tell whether anyone knew or not. Things felt different at the office, but I hadn't been fired, taunted or threatened yet so I could only assume no one did; that or they just silently approved.

Everyone not knowing had made it easier, Ziva and I had agreed on that.

We were professional at work, our only form of intimacy being the looks we shot each other every chance we got; but since when was that a new thing? And now that we were together I found myself doing it so much more, I'd look at her all the time. Little details about her, I'd take them all down in a mental notebook, saving them for later when we could finally be alone; finally be ourselves.

I watched her run her fingers through her hair and tuck it behind her ear, trailing them down her neck until she shivered and a small smile graced her lips. That had been no surprise to me; I knew her neck was a sweet spot for her.

Just then, Gibbs stormed into the bullpen looking like a raging bull, horns and all, "Ziva," he snapped, but I could tell the anger wasn't aimed at her, "Director Vance wants to see you in his office."

"Okay Gibbs," she said, seeming calm but I could tell she was nervous. She threw me a look as she stood and her eyes glimmered with something foreign, and it wasn't until she had disappeared at the top of the stairs did I realise it was fear.

And it was times like that I wished everyone knew. When I wished people accepted us and we could be ourselves all the time, because all I wanted to do was embrace her and tell her it was nothing to be afraid of. But the way Gibbs was slamming things at his desk and grumbling as though he hadn't had a coffee all day… well it wasn't very reassuring.

I finally mustered the courage to question Gibbs when he had been sitting in silence for five minutes, "Boss, do you know why Vance wanted to speak to Ziva?" I sounded like it wasn't really a big deal.

He threw me a look that said, '_Mind your own business,'_ before he got up and stormed out of the bullpen without anything further.

McGee and I shared a look before he went back to his paperwork and I stared blankly at Ziva's empty desk thinking of every possible situation; none good.

She can't be called back to Israel; she's cut all ties to MOSSAD, her father and the country she used to call home. She's an NCIS agent, an American.

I imagined her as an Agent Afloat, her small stature sitting between the big and burly Navy guys who would think they could push her around for all of about two minutes; I had to smile at the mental image, but it wasn't very funny after all.

I imagined her being transferred to a new team, her new cocky overzealous partner flirting with her over her desk.

Flashes of our first few months together ran through my mind and suddenly her invading my space every chance she got with that teasing glint in her eye brought on a pang of nostalgia. But I wouldn't trade what we had now for that, ever.

I couldn't do it anymore. I had to stop torturing myself with all of these worst case scenarios.

That was when I saw her emerge at the top of the staircase, looking every bit like the soldier she'd been when she first arrived in America.

I had the sudden compelling urge to get to my feet, which I quenched by just sitting up a little straighter in my seat.

She held a manila folder in her clenched fingers, they looked so different from those which had lightly caressed my jaw in that bathtub months before.

She took each step slowly and carefully, as though she was calculating each thoroughly. Her eyes stared at the folder with an unreadable expression which had my heart clamouring. When she rounded the corner into the bullpen she didn't even meet my eye. She merely sat at her desk and swept her hair behind her ear, this time without the shudder or smile; just the hard expression and mechanical movements.

Her eyes still held that same fearful glaze and I felt it so much more when finally, after five minutes, she locked them with mine. My eyes widened suddenly and I clenched my jaw; we had to talk.

"Ziva," I said softly, McGee looked up from his desk but Ziva acted as if I'd said nothing and continued to stare at me, "I think I have a lead, and I need backup." It didn't sound convincing, not even to me, but I couldn't care less at this point if McGee knew.

She only nodded, not even bothering to grab her gun and badge from the drawer to keep up the facade; she followed me to the elevator.

I stopped the elevator and turned to look at her, "What was that all about?"

She breathed in deeply through her nose and turned to look at me, "I've been reassigned," she said simply and when I didn't reply due to lack of function she continued, "Director Vance is convinced I can no longer work with the team due to everything that has happened. He thinks it is best if I have a fresh start. Supposedly it was a condition of me becoming an agent, which he decidedly kept to himself until this point."

When she trailed off, I had time to think it all through.

How many times could he do this to us, split us up?

"Ziva no," it was as though I was trying to convince _her_ not to leave; it wasn't even her choice.

She gave me a look that said, '_There was nothing I could do.' _

I hugged her then. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her to me, resting my head on top of hers. I listened to her steady breathing as it fanned out across the skin of my neck.

"I won't let you go, we'll figure this out together," It was pathetic, really, but how could I lose hope in us when I loved her so much.

She shook her head against me and ran her hands up and down my back

I wasn't taking it for granted then, the solidity of her, of _us_ together.

I wanted to ask when, where, who, but I decided to delay the words that would hurt so much, these moments would be spent without the complication, without the heartrending overcast of separation.

It was several minutes later when we finally pulled apart, she hadn't cried a drop but her eyes glimmered suspiciously.

I watched her as my fingers ran through her hair and tucked a lock behind her ear; there was the shudder and smile. It was contagious.

I couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed like only yesterday we'd said those three words that had made us inseparable, but now it was something we'd inescapably have to deal with. I also couldn't believe Vance could do this to us, _again_. I would have thought by now he would just realise, we worked much better together than apart.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Ziva's not replaceable. I can't live without her, and that fact has been escalated tenfold by this point.

It was a lot to think about, a lot I didn't _want _to think about.

"We'll figure something out, we always do," I finally said, and the hope in my voice must have sparked something inside of her because she smiled despite the circumstance.

She nodded and looked up at me, and I suddenly thought, '_when did I get so lucky?'_

It was always an impossibility, me and Ziva, we were complete opposites and yet so very alike. I always thought the saying 'opposites attract' was really a dumb one, but ever since Ziva I realised how true it was. We complimented each other in the best of ways, and get along so very well when we were not pushed to breaking by a mountain of unresolved sexual tension.

"I bet Gibbs has this all sorted out already, it will be fine," I grinned, my palm resting against the soft skin of her cheek.

"Let's hope," she looked up at me, a sad smile playing on her face at my optimism.

I had to ask then, "When?" My hand trailed up her arm lightly and her gaze dropped to watch it rest against her shoulder, "Where? How far away will you be?"

She took a shuddering breath before meeting my gaze again, her eyes pained, "Too soon, and too far."

I tried to read her steady gaze, but I couldn't. She bit her lip and fell against me. Burying her head into the crook of my neck, she sighed. Her voice was soft, like it had been carried from the opposite side of the world on an ocean breeze, "I fly out tomorrow night for San Diego."

I just held her tighter.

I sat on her living room floor as she packed. She moved gracefully around the room as she tried to decide on what to take.

"You could try them on and show me and I could tell you," I offered before a spark of genius hit me, "Oh your lingerie; I'll help with that!"

She shot me a glare that quickly had me raising my hands in surrender, but her face softened soon after.

Smiling gently, she put the top she was holding in her suitcase and walked toward me. She lowered herself into my lap and I could do nothing but smile dumbly as she stared into my eyes.

"Taking a break?" I murmured finally.

Her lips were against mine before I'd even finished speaking. Her hand had thread through my hair and she was pulling me against her as she sighed softly against my lips.

"I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I don't want to go," she breathed against my lips like a mantra.

I rested my forehead against hers and watched her squeeze her eyes shut tightly as she spoke against my lips. Her breath tickled my face and made me sigh.

"I know," I sighed, pressing my lips to hers to stop her from speaking. "I know, I know, I know."

"This…" she began, her eyes still shut, "This… thing that we are doing… I, uh…" she shook her head and her brow creased as she tried to form words, "I just… I have always wanted this." She opened her eyes and smiled sadly, "I have always wanted permanence because… I never did have it when I was younger and," she brought her hand up to touch my face and I found myself leaning into her, "Now it's being taken away from me," she whispered, "You are being taken away from me."

I held her tighter for a moment, brushing hair from her eyes. "Believe it or not," I sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips, "Me too."

The laugh that erupted from her throat seemed to be the dam that broke and caused her tears to well over.

She cried against my neck for a long time as I held her trembling body against me. The sun had set outside and we were sitting in darkness before I had even realised. It had taken us a long time to get to this point. Over the years I'd figured out how to break down the walls that barricaded her from the rest of the world. She finally let me in.

"Ziva, beautiful," I made her meet my eye, "This isn't forever, okay?" I smiled. "I think that we were meant to be," I raised my eyebrows at her, reminding her of a previous conversation we'd shared.

She choked up a laugh and smiled, "If you believe in that sort of thing."

"And do you know what?" I cupped her jaw in my hand and ran my other under her shirt to rest on her back. "I do believe it because you make me a better person."

She nodded wordlessly before pressing her lips against mine. I trailed one of my hands up and down her spine and the other cupped her cheek and wrapped itself into the silky tendrils of her hair as she pressed kisses against my lips and her body melded to mine. Her thigh pressed between my legs and made me pull her harder against my body. I felt the tears that still trickled from her eyes burn against my skin as she kissed me.

I decided that tonight we would not think about the past or the future; we would think of the present. It didn't matter what happened last week or last year, and it didn't matter what happened next week or next year. At that moment she was in my arms and she was very much alive and that's all that mattered. I wanted to make her forget and just live for the moment.

I kissed her back with as much force, opening my mouth and running my tongue along the seam of her lips. She gasped softly when the hand I had under her shirt trailed up her spine until it reached the clasp of her bra. I pressed against her, pushing my tongue into her mouth tentatively as she shied away, turning her head. I pressed a kiss against her temple and she closed her eyes as I unclasped her bra and pressed my knee between her legs.

"Ziva," I sighed against her hair, "It's just you and me right now; no tomorrow, no yesterday, just now, just us.

She brushed her nose against mine and bit her lip. Tears dripped off her chin and ran down my neck leaving omnipresent trails that burned so deep into my skin I'd feel them for months.

"Just us," I repeated, trying to get her to meet my eye.

After a momentary pause, she nodded. Her wet eyelashes fluttered against my cheek as she tugged on the arm I had wrapped securely around her waist and laced her fingers with mine.

"Just us," she whispered softly, her lips moving against my jaw as she spoke.

I brushed my nose against hers and nuzzled her cheek lightly to make her meet my eye. When she did I smiled lightly, running a hand through her lovely hair.

"You're beautiful, Ziva David," I murmured to her, watching her eyes glow in the darkness. I could tell she was trying hard not to cry when I said that. Her chin trembled as she pressed her lips together tightly.

"Please," she sighed, moving the leg she had between my legs slightly.

I nodded before pressing a quick kiss to the side of her nose, just below her eye. I drew my hands up her sides, dragging the material of her top up with it before I had it over her head and on the floor beside us, her bra too.

In all honesty it was a glorious sight. I rolled her over on the shag rug on her living room floor as I pressed kisses along her jaw and over her clavicle before stopping at her breasts. I drew a nipple into my mouth as she placed her hands on the back of my head, urging me on. I kissed between the valley of her breasts and around her navel, feeling the muscles in her stomach quiver and shake as I did so. Her hands let go of me and replaced my mouth at her breasts, massaging and tweaking her nipples as I placed kisses across her abdomen, right above the edge of her jeans.

She gasped quietly when I popped the button and drew the zipper down. Instinctively, she lifted her hips and I tugged on her jeans and drew them down her legs slowly. She whimpered as I kissed my way back up her legs until I was breathing hot air against her simple, white cotton panties. She leaned forward and placed her index finger beneath my chin. I crawled up her body slowly, my knees on either side of her.

She pulled me to her by the collar of my shirt and I pressed my lips against hers, breathing in through my nose as our lips locked. This time when I pressed my tongue against her lips, she let me in and pressed right back against me all at once. When we separated, I peppered kisses across her cheeks and throat while she took deep, gulping breaths of air. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was biting down on her bottom lip as she wrapped her legs around my waist and ground herself against me.

"God, Ziva," I groaned as she pulled my mouth back to hers. Her grip loosened on my collar as she trailed her fingertips downward and began unbuttoning my shirt. I sat up to pull it from my body and she followed, pushing me down the opposite way so she was straddling me. She shimmied down my body until her knees were on either side of mine. Her brow knitted into a frown of concentration as she worked on getting my belt undone while she stroked me through my pants.

I wanted to press her back to the floor and have my way with her but she was taking her sweet time and she could do some amazingly distracting things with her hands. "Ziva, please," I gasped as she tugged on my pants and boxers, revealing me.

She wrapped her hand around my erection and rocked forward so she could kiss me. I groaned into her mouth as she continued to stroke me gently. I could feel her smile against my lips as she squeezed me.

"Ziva," I gasped as she crawled up my body and sat on my abdomen. I ran my fingers over the soft flesh of her thighs as she reached behind herself and continued to stroke my member. I began to play with elastic of her panties and she sighed softly. Placing my hands on her hips, I began to inch her panties down until she obediently lifted her ass and allowed me to pull them down her legs.

I placed my hand against her smooth mound and she sighed in annoyance, "Quit wasting time, Tony."

I smiled at her direct tone before running my fingers through her slick folds, pushing one, then two fingers inside of her. She moaned as she slid back, hovering over my erection. I withdrew my fingers and placed them over hers on my member.

She cried out and fell forward, pressing her body against me as she lowered herself onto my cock.

I gasped against her cheek at the utterly perfect feeling her being inside of her.

I pulled her lips to mine and grasped her hips as I waited for her to move. She was breathing heavily against my lips when I pulled away from her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

I watched a single tear track down her cheek and cling to her lip as she lay still against my body. I felt a sudden compelling urge to lean forward and draw the bead of liquid into my mouth; so I did. It made me remember that night months ago when we'd consummated our relationship over cupcakes and bubble baths. The salty taste of her tears, though, was a striking comparison to the sweet taste of icing and the happiness of a fresh relationship and intimacy. It served as a reminder that tomorrow she would be boarding a one way flight to California and I would be staying here. It was slightly ironic, too; the sweetness resembling the beginning and the bitter, saltiness marking the end.

I had to squeeze my eyes shut and swallow the lump rising in my throat at the thought. I tried to supress the overwhelming urge to flip her over and slam into her over, and over as though it would stop her from leaving; as though it would make her stay.

But then, she pressed her hand against my cheek and leant forward until her hot breath was scalding my ear.

"Just us," she whispered.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, she began to move and I held her tight, knowing that I'd see her again after tomorrow, somehow.

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**So yes, yes. I'm hoping to not leave it here and maybe go a step further but I'm not sure. No ideas are springing forth at the moment and, well, with my success rate of updating things, there's no telling. **

**Well I hope you enjoyed it and some helpful prodding in the form of reviews would definitely push me to continue this, if you know what I mean :) **


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